Word of the Day Challenge

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

de rigueur
adjective | duh-ree-GUR


Definition

: De rigueur is a formal adjective that describes things that are necessary if you want to be fashionable, popular, socially acceptable, etc.—in other words, things required by fashion, etiquette, or custom.


Weekly Theme

Urban Legend


Did You Know?

It takes a lot of work to be cool. One needs to wear the right clothes, understand the right pop culture references, and use the right lingo before it ceases to be, ahem, on fleek. Rigor is required, is what we’re saying—a strict precision in adhering to the dictates of fashion. Such rigor is at the crux of the adjective de rigueur, a direct borrowing from French where it means “out of strictness” or “according to strict etiquette.” Rigor is also what distinguishes de rigueur from a similar French borrowing, du jour. While the latter describes things that are popular, fashionable, or prominent at a particular time, as in “topic/style/buzzword du jour,” de rigueur describes that which is considered mandatory by fashion, etiquette, or custom for acceptability within a given social sphere or context. A bucket hat, for example, may be the chapeau du jour if it is currently popular or prevalent, but it would only be de rigueur if, among a certain crowd, you would be given the side-eye for not wearing one.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

garble
verb | GAR-bul


Definition

: To garble something, such as a word, name, message, etc., is to cause it to be unclear or distorted. This type of garbling can be the result of an accident, ignorance, or a transmission error. Garble can also mean "to so alter or distort as to create a wrong impression or change the meaning."


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

Garble is a word with a spicy history, and we're not just saying that to curry favor with gastronomes. It is presumed that this word was passed from Arabic to Mediterranean Europe through trade in Eastern spices, and was first introduced into English from the Anglo-French verb garbeler, used for the action of sifting out impurities—such as dust, dirt, husks, etc.—from spices. In the 15th century, the English garble carried this same meaning as well as "to cull," i.e., to sort or pick out the best parts of something. If these origins seem curious given garble’s now more common meanings of "to so alter or distort as to create a wrong impression" and "to cause to be unclear or confusing; to introduce error into," consider that one way of garbling someone’s story is to take bits and pieces out of context.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

hobbit
noun | HAH-bit


Definition

: A hobbit is a member of a fictitious peaceful and friendly race of small humanlike creatures that dwell underground.


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

"What is a hobbit?" wrote J.R.R. Tolkien in the 1937 fantasy novel that introduced Mr. Bilbo Baggins. The author then answered himself: "They are (or were) little people, about half our height, and smaller than the bearded Dwarves. ... There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear when large stupid folk like you and me come blundering along ..." Tolkien tells us that hobbits "are inclined to be fat," and that they "dress in bright colours"; they "have good-natured faces, and deep fruity laughs (especially after dinner)." Tolkien, a professional linguist who taught at Oxford, coined the word hobbit (and many other terms—in fact, a whole new language) for The Hobbit and for his enormously popular three-part novel The Lord of the Rings.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

flippant
adjective | FLIP-unt


Definition

: Something described as flippant, such as behavior or a comment, is lacking in proper respect or seriousness.


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

Consider the spatula, humble friend to many a cook: admire the pliancy with which it flips pancakes, eggs, your more wieldy cuts of meat. We’re not being flippant—that is, facetious or smart-alecky—utensils are important, and spatulas are particularly useful for understanding the origins of flippant. Flippant is believed to come from the English verb flip, which, in turn, is a supposed imitation of the sound of something (say, a flapjack) flipping. The earliest uses of flippant described flexible things (like a spatula) or nimble, spry people, capable of moving this way and that with ease. Soon enough, flippant began to be used not only for people fluent in their movements, but those whose words flow easily. To be this kind of flippant was once a good thing; however, as people who speak freely can sometimes speak more freely than propriety permits, English users eventually flipped the script on flippant, and the positive sense fell into disuse, bending to the "disrespectful" sense we know today.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

archetype
noun | AHR-kih-type


Definition

: Archetype refers to someone or something that is seen to be a perfect example. It is also a word for the original pattern or model of which all things of the same type are representations or copies.


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

In her 2024 book Doppelganger: A Trip into the Mirror World, author Naomi Klein writes that “the doppelganger archetype has appeared across time to explore issues of life and death, the body versus the soul, the ego versus the id …” Klein doesn’t mean that the same double, evil twin, or changeling keeps popping up throughout history, of course, but that the original concept of a doppelganger has served as a pattern, model, or template for writers to use in different ways, each supplying it with their own imagined details. Archetype’s origins are in two Greek words: the verb archein, meaning “to begin,” and the noun typos, meaning “type.” Since its debut in English in the mid-1500s, archetype has taken on uses specific to the ideas of Plato, John Locke, and Carl Jung, but in everyday prose, archetype is most commonly used to mean “a perfect example,” as in “Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is considered an archetype of doppelganger fiction.”

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

derelict
adjective | DAIR-uh-likt


Definition

: Derelict is a formal word that describes something that is no longer cared for or used by anyone. It can also describe someone who is negligent or who fails to do what needs to be done.


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

The Latin verb relinquere, meaning "to leave behind," left English with a number of words, including derelict. Something derelict has been left behind, or at least appears that way. In another sense, someone who is derelict leaves behind or neglects their duties or obligations. Another descendant of relinquere is relinquish, meaning "to leave behind," "to give up," or "to release." Relic also ultimately comes from relinquere. Relics, in the original sense of the term, are things treasured for their association with a saint or martyr—that is, objects saints and martyrs left behind. Relinquere also gives English its name for the containers or shrines which hold relics, reliquary.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

elucidate
verb | ih-LOO-suh-dayt


Definition

: To elucidate something is to make it clear or easy to understand.


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

In 1974, the discovery of a remarkably intact Australopithecus skeleton elucidated a key moment in human evolution. She was famously nicknamed Lucy in reference to the Beatles’ “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds,” but we’d still love Lucy were it simply an homage to the light she shed. You see, the Latin luc- or lux puts the “light” in many English utterances (including the name Lucy). Take, for instance, lucent (“glowing with light”), luculent (“clear in thought or expression”), luciferous (“bringing light or insight”), lucid (“clear, sane, intelligible”), and elucidate (“to make clear or understandable”). Those last two words come from the Latin lucidus, which literally translates to “lucid.” Lucidus, in turn, comes from the verb lucēre, meaning “to shine.” Elucidating, therefore, can be thought of as the figurative equivalent of shining a light on something to make it easier to see.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

untoward
adjective | un-TOH-erd


Definition

: Untoward is a formal word that describes something that is improper or inappropriate, or that is adverse or unfavorable.


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

For centuries, the adjective toward described “forward-moving” youngsters, the kind who showed promise and were open to listening to their elders. The adjective then came to mean amiable or obliging. The opposite of this now-obsolete sense of toward is froward, meaning “disobedient.” Froward has fallen out of common use, but thankfully another toward antonym, untoward, obliged in picking up the slack. In addition to describing people or things that are “difficult to guide, manage, or work with,” untoward today is applied to that which is unfavorable or adverse, as well as to things that are inappropriate or in bad taste.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

penchant
noun | PEN-chunt


Definition

: Penchant refers to a strong liking for something, or a strong tendency to behave in a certain way. It is usually used with for.


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

English has multiple p-words that imply a strong instinct or liking for something, including propensity and proclivity, but to keep things precise, penchant is the proper word for implying a pronounced, persistent taste in a person ("a penchant for pretty pendants") or a predominant predilection for performing particular actions ("a penchant for petting penguins"). Penchant traces back all the way to the Latin verb pendere, meaning "to weigh," but is more immediately preceded in English by the French word penchant, from the present participle of pencher, meaning "to incline."

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

cynosure
noun | SYE-nuh-shur


Definition

: A cynosure is a person or thing that attracts a lot of attention or interest. As a proper noun, Cynosure may refer to the North Star or its constellation Ursa Minor.


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

Ancient mariners noted that all the stars in the heavens seemed to revolve around a particular star, and they relied on that star to guide their navigation. The constellation that this bright star appears in is known to English speakers today as Ursa Minor, or the Little Dipper, but the Ancient Greeks called it Kynósoura, a term that comes from a phrase meaning "dog's tail." Kynósoura passed into Latin and Middle French, becoming cynosure. When English speakers adopted the term in the 16th century, they used it as a name for both the constellation and the star (which is also known as the North Star or Polaris) and also to identify a guide of any kind. By the 17th century, cynosure was also being used figuratively for anything or anyone that, like the North Star, is the focus of attention or observation.

[Briar]

feb 20th word: flounder
themeless

"Draw your sword."

I hesitated. To wield a real blade - against her? Naked metal was too risky. If there was even one mistake there could be a permanent injury. And when she sparred, it always real; she wasn't one to pull her punches. Surely she didn't need to do this to gauge my progress. And why with her own life on the line? Was she seeing how far I could go against her? Was she testing my resolve? Or was it -

Her eyes narrowed subtly. Her patience had run out.

To flounder in her eyes was a sin. I unsheathed my weapon and took my stance, preparing myself. And there on her lips was a flicker of a smile.

[Lilias]

The carriers rolled the dolly into the storage unit, pried open the crate lid and left, with only the briefest exchange of words. The foreman looked at his manifest, then the invoice, then the manifest again.

'Lot #936: miniature sarcophagus, probably funerary offering, exhumed by company associates near the Lagina sanctuary, southwestern Türkiye. Undated.' He looked up at the only other person who had stayed. 'Are we doing our own antiquities trafficking now?'

The deputy director of the auction house gave a perfunctory smile. 'It's undated. For all we know, it's a forgery.'

'Yeah, that only means it hasn't been scanned', grouched the foreman, unimpressed. 'I've been to Lagina. Bloody pain to get there, but the wife wanted to see the sanctuary up close. See, it's not a tourist trap. This—', he gestured down to the crate, where an expanse of black marble was peeking out of the packing straw, 'looks like too much work to forge.' He wanted to suggest calling in an archaeologist, but held his tongue in time when he saw the other man's frown.

'Let's get it out, then, and see for ourselves', said the director, masking his irritation with suavity.

The sarcophagus was indeed a miniature, about the size of a bread box, and despite the weight of the marble, the two men lifted it out of the crate with little trouble. There was a faded inscription on it, going all the way around the box. The lid was unsecured, and slid sideways with a grate of stone on stone at little more than a nudge.

Unlike the plain exterior, the inner casket was a sumptuous work of gold – no, vermeil; the layer of gold was chipped in places, revealing the silver underneath. It was carved all over with patterns of keys, flames, and some intricate spirals that the foreman found vaguely familiar and unsettling.

'Maybe we should call in an expert before opening it', he couldn't stop himself from saying.

The director scowled. 'This is going into the Saturday auction. This is not the time to have archaeologists meddling. We are opening it, to make sure the starting price is set right. It's a pretty jewel box, but we don't give away jewels for free.'

Despite the director's concern, the golden casket was empty, except for a piece of cloth soaked in blood – still fresh.

The two men stared at each other, speechless. It had grown very quiet in there, and that presaged nothing good, thought the foreman, just before the otherwise unoccupied storage unit erupted in howling.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

effusive
adjective | ih-FYOO-siv


Definition

: Someone or something described as effusive is expressing or showing a lot of emotion or enthusiasm.


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

English speakers have used effusive to describe excessive outpourings since the 17th century. Its oldest and still most common sense relates to the expression of abundant emotion or enthusiasm, but in the 1800s, geologists adopted a specific sense characterizing flowing lava, or hardened rock formed from flowing lava. Effusive can be traced, via the Medieval Latin adjective effūsīvus ("generating profusely, lavish"), to the Latin verb effundere ("to pour out"), which itself comes from fundere ("to pour") plus a modification of the prefix ex- ("out"). Our verb effuse has the same Latin ancestors. A person effuses when speaking effusively. Liquids can effuse as well, as in "water effusing from a pipe."

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

snark
noun | SNAHRK


Definition

: Snark is an informal word that refers to an attitude or expression of mocking irreverence and sarcasm.


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

Credit for snark is often given to Lewis Carroll, on the basis of his having written a poem with this word in the title, back in the 1870s. The modern snark, however, is a back-formation (“a word formed by subtraction of a real or supposed affix from an already existing longer word”), a class of words that includes burgle and back-stab. It comes from taking the longer word snarky and subtracting the -y. Snarky emerged in English around the turn of the 20th century, initially with the meaning of “snappish, crotchety,” and then later took on the sense of “sarcastic, impertinent, or irreverent in tone or manner.” The noun snark is a much more recent addition to the language, arising in the 1990s. It was preceded by the verb snark, “to make an irreverent or sarcastic comment, to say something snarky,” which dates to the late 1980s.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

hew
verb | HYOO


Definition

: Hew is commonly used with to to mean "to conform to or adhere to (something)." Hew on its own has several meanings having to do with cutting or shaping with a sharp tool, such as an ax. Both hewed and hewn are past participles of hew.


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

Without context, the contrasting meanings of hew may seem arbitrary. What does shaping something with an ax have to do with conforming or adhering to something? If you're not a lumberjack, that's okay, we'll explain. The connection lies in the woodworking phrase "hew to the line," where line refers to the mark along the length of a log indicating where to chop in order to shape a beam. "Hewing to the line," literally, is cutting along the mark—adhering to it—until the side of the log is squared. In the 1800s, "hew to the line" was used figuratively as half of the idiom "hew to the line, let the chips fall where they may," to advise someone to stay true to a course of action, whatever the consequences may be. Over time the latter half of the phrase has been, well, hewn off.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

benign
adjective | bih-NYNE


Definition

: Benign describes something that does not cause harm or damage. In medical contexts it is used to describe something that does not threaten life or health (as in "a benign tumor"). Additional meanings include "mild and pleasant" (as in "benign weather conditions") and "showing kindness and gentleness" (as in "a benign outlook").


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

Benign traces back to the Latin adjective benignus, which was formed from bene, meaning "well," and the verb gignere, "to beget"—that is, "to produce or create." Gignere is also the root of such English words as genius and germ, and even shares distant ancestry with kin. The meanings of benign range from describing an absence of danger or harm to that which shows kindness or is gracious or wholesome.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

impresario
noun | im-pruh-SAHR-ee-oh


Definition

: An impresario is a person who manages, puts on, or sponsors a performance or other entertainment, such as a concert, play, or sporting event.


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

Concerts, music festivals, television series, professional wrestling matches—these are quite the undertakings. Luckily, there’s a word for the impressive individuals responsible for organizing and overseeing such productions: impresario. In the 1700s, English borrowed impresario directly from Italian, whose noun impresa means “undertaking.” (A close relative is the English word emprise, “an adventurous, daring, or chivalric enterprise,” which, like impresario, traces back to the Latin verb prehendere, meaning “to seize.”) At first English speakers used impresario as the Italians did, to refer to opera company managers, though today it is used much more broadly. It should be noted that, despite their apparent similarities, impress and impresario are not related. Impress is a descendant of the Latin verb pressare, a form of the word premere, meaning “to press.”

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

malleable
adjective | MAL-ee-uh-bul


Definition

: Something described as malleable is capable of being stretched or bent into different shapes, or capable of being easily changed or influenced.


Weekly Theme

Folk Tales


Did You Know?

Language is constantly evolving; the meanings, spellings, and pronunciations of words are reshaped over time. Take, for example, the Latin noun malleus, meaning "hammer." This word was adapted to create the Latin verb malleare, meaning "to hammer," which led eventually to the English adjective malleable. Malleable originally meant "capable of being extended or shaped by beating with a hammer," and over time adopted the broader sense "capable of being shaped, altered, or controlled." If you guessed that maul and mallet, other English words for specific types of hammers, are also modeled from malleus, you have hit the nail on the head.

[Lilias]

The house was the last vestige of what used to be the largest estate in the county. The nearby village of Upton Warren used to be included, for goodness' sake, all the way to the dawn of the 21st century. It was the expropriation of a good chunk of land, for the development of the high speed railway line, that had dealt the first blow to the estate, but the village had thrived in the increased traffic, growing into a cozy little market town. Then the rest had started to go, piecemeal. The horses were gone first, then the oat and clover fields, which Grandpa at least had the foresight to upgrade to building land and get three times the money, at the cost of becoming neighbours with a council housing estate and a student accommodation complex.

It was a right shame, the village folk whispered, that none of the family's four children had a liking for country life. The girl had emigrated to Australia with her husband, and of her three brothers, one had joined the merchant navy and wouldn't spend more than a couple months a year on dry land, and the other two had gone on to advanced degrees and high-flying careers in the City. The old couple begrudged them nothing, even as they saw what they had tended for a lifetime dwindle down to just the house and its artfully wild gardens. In turn, none of the children had objected when their parents had left that last bit of family land, together with a tidy sum for its maintenance, to their one surviving cousin, a recently divorced artist. They would just sell it, the old town folk agreed, while now the poor girl will be sure to have a roof over her head for as long as she needs it.

Naturally, Alison was ecstatic with her lot, on the bright May day she came to take possession of her new house. She had spent her childhood summer holidays there, with her cousins and her late brother, playing in the copse of hawthorns, which, thankfully, was still standing, and acquiring a taste for the tea that Grandma made out of the nettles that sprung up in her flower beds. It felt cavernous now that it would house only herself and her daughter, rather than a family of eight and any number of farm hands coming and going, but it was still the same restful place she remembered, brightening up at the sound of a child's presence. First things first, thought Alison, have the piano tuned. Aunt Lena had been a keen musician, like her own mother, and her daughter seemed to be following in their footsteps. Whoever lived on the land, the family continued.

[Lilias]

When Grandma asked me to drive her to the apiculture convention, I thought I was scheduled for a gallant sacrifice of time.

Grandma has been a keen beekeeper for most of her life, and she was actually one of the founders of the convention, so absence was out of the question. She used to go with Grandpa, but since he passed away, one of us, her children or grandchildren, has had to drive her wherever she needs to go. I wasn't going to refuse her request, but great googly moogly, it felt like something to endure, rather than enjoy. I went as far as wondering if I had upset her in some way and that was retaliation.

Thank goodness I kept my big mouth shut, because nothing had prepared me for what the convention actually was.

A marquee had been set up on the Octagon Meadow, where all the local 'town and country' events are held. Inside, beekeepers from all over the county and beyond were offering their products – jars of honey, of course (and who knew it came in so many shades?), but also beeswax candles, soaps, skin and lip balms, even mead! So many things to try and people to talk to, not only little old ladies and gentlemen, a lot sharper than they looked, but also keen young people looking to make careers out of tending bees. And once that was over, there was the best cream tea served, a fragrant Darjeeling with freshly baked scones and clotted cream and the impossible choice of set or runny honey, all outside under the flower arch where some of the gathering's honoured guests buzzed around lazily, knowing they were the focus of the day.

'Was it as bad as you feared?' Grandma teased as we packed up to go, praying that the paper bag would hold the weight of all the loot I had bought.

My face heated up. Had I been so transparent? 'No', I said sincerely. 'It was fun, and... seeing all the products together makes it clear that all the work you put in is worth it.'

Grandma laughed and tousled my hair. 'We'll get you to the hives yet.'

[Lilias]

Faith was dying to hear the actual news, as opposed to the gossip going around, but there was something almost hypnotic in the unhurried way that Anna went about making tea – masala chai, top quality, that Nadia had brought from her recent foray into India, with carefully frothed milk and some golden grains of sugar – that stopped her from protesting or trying to make her friend haste.

When Anna finally put the mug in front of her, Faith wrapped her palms around its warmth, inhaled the ginger and vanilla wafting up from the mound of foam, and finally asked: 'Was Lord Bowers as furious as they say?'

'Positively livid', Anna confirmed, mirroring her friend's stance with her own mug. Maxim and Madame Vera had both been present, so Anna had no reason to doubt their accounts. 'He is no stranger to someone trying to finesse some... redirection of Arcanum resources out of him, but the particular office had been dependable and trustworthy for so long, I guess he was blindsided. He seemed almost as mad at himself, for not seeing it earlier, said my dad.'

Faith shook her head, fairly bemused. 'He's going to be even warier now. I always thought that, if he could run the Arcanum single-handed, he would.'

'If he could be the Arcanum, in short', observed Anna, licking some foam off her upper lip. 'Make no mistake, Lord Bowers is as paranoid as any crackpot on Hyde Park Corner. He just channels it more effectively.'

Faith snorted with laughter. 'That sounds like Sophia's opinion, too. So, I take it that office is no more?'

'Yep. Dismantled, and its members will never work again for the Arcanum or any of its network partners. If it were a case we could take to mundane court, Lord Bowers would have already filed.'

'He would win, too', said Faith, with confidence. 'Blow all our covers, of course, but still.'

It was Anna's turn to snort. 'Anyway, the office may be no more, but some of the work they did will have to be assigned to other cabals, which means there will be some recruiting happening soon.' She leaned in, with a conspiratorial air and a sly gleam in her eyes, and Faith knew what she was going to say before she continued: 'Shall I tell Sarah to put in a word for you?'

[Lilias]

When Grandpa called me into his study, on the morning of my seventeenth birthday, I selfishly assumed that he had a gift for me. Which was only halfway accurate. He did have a gift, which he gave me in the evening, at the party, with everyone else. The morning gift was another story entirely.

He watched with great excitement for my reaction as I opened the carved teak wood jewel box he handed me, and he was not disappointed, because my jaw hit the floor at the sight of the heap of gold and emeralds, and he chuckled to herself in utter delight.

'That is Grandma's parure', he explained, before I had even found words to articulate the question. 'Well, demi-parure – there is no tiara, we are not nobility, but everything else is there. I waited long years to fulfil her wish and pass it on to you, you know.'

I lined up each piece on the old desk: collar necklace, bracelet, ring, brooch, drop earrings. Round and oval cut emeralds set in white gold with marcasite accents. The ring would need resizing, but everything else I could put on right there and then.

'Why did Grandma leave this to me?' I managed to ask. Jane, my older sister, would not be pleased, I was sure.

Grandpa leaned a bit forward, resting his chin on his folded hands. 'How much do you remember of Grandma?'

Good question. Not much, at least concretely. Grandma had died when I was nine, and her figure had grown rather nebulous with time. I remembered her still young, with golden hair untouched by grey. A gregarious hostess, the soul of every room she entered, but she liked nothing better than to sit and read in the sunroom, and tell Jane and me stories when we found her there. A phenomenal cook and baker, but what I recalled most was the chamomile tea she would make me when I was poorly, so I could calm down and sleep. I knew she had had a very promising career in opera before she met and married Grandpa, and had to give it up, as women had to, back in the day. If she regretted it, she didn't show it, but her penchant for impatience with anyone who tried to tell her how to live her life was well documented. 'Enough to miss her still', I said softly.

Grandpa sighed, rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, and faced me again. 'What you don't remember is that Grandma was your birthday twin. April 30, exactly fifty-three years apart.' He tapped the centre of the necklace with a fingertip. 'The emerald is the Taurus birthstone, and that's why this set was put aside for you. She wrote it into her will, and I kept it in trust until now. Jane got other pieces, when her time came. Don't let her bully you over these.' He nodded emphatically; he knew my sister well.

I busied myself with putting everything back into the box, while gathering my thoughts. 'Thanks, Grandpa', was all I could come up with. 'For keeping the faith.'

'It was the least I could do for my queen', he said earnestly, then fixed me again with an almost stern gaze. 'Don't tie yourself to anyone who wouldn't do the same.'